How could we look the other way?
As each petal,
from the top of your head,
wrinkled and brown,
feathered to the floor.
Your stem legs,
kissing the sun,
like it was lost behind the sea for years.
We were pioneers
of our bodies,
and I saw it before you;
the willingness to fall,
when it turned to dusk.
And in the winter of our lives, so unforgiving,
like a knife, twisted slow,
you slept under the snow.